


That waitress at the diner.

by dontstraytoofar



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, POV from outside character, cartinelli fluff pls, i was gonna make it sad but no
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:36:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontstraytoofar/pseuds/dontstraytoofar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I once knew a woman who could speak in the softest silk,” Her words are reminiscent, a fond smile across her face as she scrunches her nose up, speaking as if sharing a secret while scrubbing tables and moving chairs. </p><p>“-but honey, she could crush you with her lips”</p>
            </blockquote>





	That waitress at the diner.

**Author's Note:**

> just wanted to play around with characters. Hope this wasn't to sad?

He’s on late run, his tie tight around his neck as it follows in wake from the winter wind. If only he set his alarm 10 minutes earlier maybe then Johnno wouldn’t have his head at the office today. But of course, Frank Davis is an idiot intern like all the boys say, the secretary that gets coffee they joke. And as he holds his hat down on his head with his suitcase in the other, Frank likes to think he could spit in their darn coffee with a clear conscience. 

Hearing the bell chime over his head, shouldering the door, Frank makes a beeline for the counter. A neat little automat, tucked and bright with the words L&L in flashing neon lights. There dim in the day though, more pastel in colour. It reminds him of his gal back home, pastel blue eyes and hair almost as yellow as straw. She’s a killer queen, makes Frank wonder how his brown mop and 5 o’clock shadow scored him such a gal.

Makes him forget about all the shit jokes in the office. 

He’s brought out of his thoughts as a young waitress with dirty blonde hair saddles up to him behind the counter with pen to paper. She’s small waisted, all smiles with a nametag _Angie_. Hair curled and pins in every right spot, Frank smiles. 

“What can I get ya sugar?” 

Laying his hat down and sitting across, he politely orders. (His mum would hit him over the head if he was rude)

“Five coffees, two decaf, three with sugars, all to go. Thanks mam.” 

If she’s surprised by the sudden kindness of the diner, the waitress doesn’t show it besides a small eyebrow lift and quirk of the lips. 

“Coming right up. And for the niceness, yours is on me” 

Smiling gratefully he sits quietly as he watches everyday life, _Angie_ he remembers, flying around the coffee side of the bar efficiently screwing lids to cardboard and placing them neatly in a holder. Makes him smile really, a gal good at her job. He can admire that, god knows the world needs more appreciated woman.   
Yeah so he can respect woman? Is it really that hard?

(His moms a big influence in that)

He then notices how drained she is, wincing at the wrong placement of her foot and rubbing her wrists as if she’s been liftin’ weights. Looking worriedly Frank points to her foot and nods his head. 

“You get that checked?”

Looking down she shrugs, leaning with her hands to the bar and pursing her lips. He wants to stay a while, she’s the nicest waitress he’s had in a while and screw the boys at work. Their coffee’s better cold than spat in. 

“Don’t bother, could set me back a weeks pay. Not worth it these days” 

Nodding understandably, Frank takes a sip of his coffee as they fall in comfortable silence at the diner’s unusual quietness. Angie leans with both arms on the table an inquiring gaze. 

(She’s not interested, but this guy’s different. Not a usual customer, a little hinged but pretty in the jaw)

“You got a lady waiting for ya back home? You look about the age for shackin up” 

Placing his coffee back down he chuckles and nods at Angie’s teasing face, a sense of strange familiarity. Strange familiarity doesn’t work but it does. 

“Pretty girl from Detroit, met her a train station like those sappy war stories. She’s a one of a kind I tell ya. How about you? Face like yours…..”

He trails off as Angie rolls her eyes, smiling as she shrugs. A little brushoff here and there, but she lapses into a story that Frank needs to remember to write down. She looks nervous but as she looks up Frankie hopes she sees the encouraging nod behind his cup. 

“Okay so you know English people right? God save the Queen and all that jazz. Well few years back, a woman with hips and the _craziest_ lips moved in across from me. Accent and the sass to go with it, trust me….hang on didn’t catch ya name sugar” 

“Frank mam”

“Oh god no ‘mam’. Call me Angie, makes me feel like my Grandma” 

Smiling and nodding for her to continue Frank listens intently as Angie talked adimately.   
Like she’s remembered this and has recited it a thousand times. 

“Anyways, Peggy’s her name. Visited the diner here every afternoon, same order. My pies and fresh brewed coffee, black tea on her crap days. We talked, she was a dame let me tell ya. Didn’t take long to fall for her Frankie, legs like that got anyone to their knees.”

He coughs at the last part, oh no Frank Davis is by no means close minded. Just a little shocked is all, never heard a story like this one. Sounded like they were quite the pair. But Angie is biting her lip worriedly, picking at her nails. 

So ‘Frankie’ just shakes his head and indicates with his free hand to continue.

“Angie don’t stop now, it was just getting good” 

The breath of relief that escapes Angie’s mouth is pretty heavy. She looks overly grateful, 

“Means a lot, sugar. Thanks” 

“Glad to help, so legs like a goddess I presume?”

Lighting up Angie wipes at the table below her.

“Right! Legs, yep. Although in that department not lacking, my English was pretty secretive Frankie. Late nights and wonders in all battered and bruised. Caused tonne of fights, but one day guess she couldn’t take it. Fell in my arms and word got out. Next minute we were the two dykes of New York.” 

The last part is said bitterly, an expression unreadable as Frank lowers his cup. A somber look on his face as he reaches a friendly hand for her furiously ‘rubbing at the table’ one.

“I’m sorry Angie, really.”

She smiles weakly, shrugging.

“No biggie, got no clue why I’m tellin you this anyways. Barely know you” 

“My gal says something a lot. ‘You find friendship Frank, in the most unlikeliest places.” I try to hold to that, she’s a smart one.” 

Smiling a little watery, Angie continues. 

(She doesn’t have to know his gal has never said that) 

“Anyways, we didn’t care. She did her thing I did mine, and the next we did things together. You know, coupl-y things you could call it. She would come to every audition of mine, roses always in her hand. Late nights as we walked back home. Kinda sucked though her coming home in the morning though, _bullet holes_ this time Frank. Bullet holes!! Wonder how she got them?” 

He’s interested now, leaning closer as Angie conspiratorily leans in. But just as he thinks she’s gonna say it she winks and leans back.

“Sorry champ, don’t kiss and tell. But she for sure didn’t work at no phone company” 

Sighing Frank jokingly clicks and leans back. Chuckling he looks back up, this ‘Peggy’ gal did sound one of a kind. He _definitely_ needed to write this down.

Smiling and teasing he taps her on the forearm and raises an eyebrow. Her face has gone a little ashen. 

“Did ya take that girl to the alter? Well... as best you could” 

Her smiles lifts then, eyes shining that little bit brighter. 

“You think I’m trippin? ‘Course! Seventh of October 1948. One of those secret ones in another country. Peggy’s idea, said she wanted it all to last.” 

Oh she’s gone now, lost in a memory. Frank politely waits, he doesn’t feel like he should be happy. And a tear trails her cheek as she shakes her head and wipes at it quickly, sniffing and smiling it all away. 

“Jeez sorry. God, don’t know why I’m cryin” 

Looking down his curiosity bites him in the ass, he wants to know. Friendly stranger ask these things right? He shouldn’t, but a story like this he needs to know. So softly, ever so gently he speaks. 

(Angie the waitress at this diner looks as if she wants to fall apart) 

“What happened to your English?”

She looks up, a little startled as if no one had asked her that question in years. She smiles sadly at the table top, a bit of a melancholy dream. 

“Wish I knew, Frankie. She said one morning she’d be out, getting milk ya know? Took a while, three hour mark had me worrying. She was never late, always tellin me _‘Darling if I’m late assume I’m dead, wouldn’t leave you for the world’_ Didn’t wanna believe it Frankie, I hate assuming, you know the sayin” 

He smiles sadly, a supportive hand to her wrist she’s still rubbing.

“Makes an ass outta you an’ me, ain’t it kid?”

She laughs, tears now trailing her cheeks as she sniffs and wipes at the underside of her eyes. She holds to the hand on her wrist, Frankie smiles. A bit of wetness in his own eyes.

“I loved her. God I loved Peggy Carter. She was that one great love you get ya know? The one’s like those sappy war stories, Frankie” 

He nods cos he’s got one of his own. 

But Angie doesn’t.

And he feels as if the waitress at the diner needs her great love back. 

It’s been nearly an hour now, coffee's surely cold, he’s late for work and morning shift is nearly over. Angie though is swallowing like she does this routine every morning before work. 

Breathin just to get by.

“Ever find her?”

She chuckles hollow, her hand twisting around a golden band on her left hand.

“God no, Peggy’s never found unless she wants to be. Wonder if she’s lookin?”

He nods, a little too enthusiastically. Looking seriously into Angie’s eyes. 

“Darl? Wouldn’t be surprised if she was waiting outside this diner here. Don’t give up Angie, she’s not gone. Judging from all that’s said, she’s just a little lost.” 

“A little lost,” She scoffs a bit, biting her lip. “yeah. Don’t think that either, Peggy knows maps like the back of her hand” 

“Sounds like she knew you the same.” 

He watches as Angie closes her eyes, shaking her head she smiles and collects his drunken cup. She looks up though, her eyes soft. 

(To Frank she looks as if the map her and Peggy should remember has been forgotten)

Makes him all kinds of sad. 

“Your a real champ, you know that Frankie?” 

He laughs and stands up, placing the money owed with a hefty tip. He sits his hat atop his head as he feels Angie lean over and tighten his tie. He grabs his suitcase and gratefully smiles. 

“Wife tells me everyday, Angie” 

She successfully finishes pulling it up and leans back, a half smile hugging her lips as she gazes at his get up of a 9-5 job. 

“Good, cos you are. Now get goin, I’m sure the office is gonna ring your neck” 

“Couldn’t give a rats ass, guys over there don’t respect me enough for the pay” 

Her eyes flicker a bit, as if remembering a memory and flashing through it.

“Knew a gal that had the same problem.” 

“Peggy?”

“Yep. Men were pigs...did I ever tell you about that fork thing she did?”

“‘Fraid not”

She shrugs, giggling a bit as her eyes gloss over again. 

“Now _that’s_ a story. Maybe next time” 

He nods as he makes his way to the diner doors, a familiar bell clanging over as he shoulders through. Angie waves politely as Frank waves back. 

“Next time for sure Angie.” 

\------------------------

He quit his job. 

Frank Davis the intern who gets coffee is no more. Because he took up a business in retail, good money, old people hate him but it’s better than that old office chair. And how can he complain? The money giving him and his wife the push.

Four years later and the second baby on the way. 

(Seems though errand runner is a full time job when your wifes pregnant) 

So he’s picking up bread and walking that same street with those L&L fluorescent lights. He smiles instantly. He remembers wanting to spit in his boss's coffee. 

He didn’t mean too, people just lose touch. But he’s reminded of a waitress that shouted coffees with a small waist, and as he peers through the glass screen it makes him a tad sad to see a brunette woman running orders with a nametag not even starting with A. 

He sighs but wants to feel that familiar friendship again, shouldering that door like he used to. That bell ringing like it used to. 

He looks around at familiar seats, it’s changed a bit. The seats are different and they play something more classic swingy on the radios. Most booths are occupied, but he spots one that seems untouched. 

And as he goes to round the booth, the spot isn’t so clear. 

A woman with red lips and brunette curled hair is crossed legged sporting a black tea. Reading the latest headlines she looks up, Franks apologies already on his lips. 

“Can I help you?” 

English? 

_“God save the Queen and all that jazz”_

“Uh- ahem. No, sorry mam. Enjoy your evening” 

She looks up queerly at him, an eyebrow raised and an air of what Angie described as ‘like she’s better than you but still respects you’ so shaking his head he tries not to ask if her names Peggy Carter or if she found Angie. 

So he turns around, still _thoroughly_ confused because that is exactly how he pictured Peggy Carter. 

And mid turn his arms full of someone else and a cake all down his front shirt. An exclaimed “Jeez” and behind him a warning of “Sir watch where you're going.” Followed by the same voice, “Angie are you alright?” 

“Oh god mam, so sorry.” 

Wait, Angie?

And his suspicion is correct as he arms full again, the cake smooshed between them.

“Frankie! Gosh how long’s it been? Three years!?” 

Hugging back he smiles, Angie a sight for sore eyes. 

“Four kid, how ya been?” 

But Angie’s next words are halted apologetically by that English woman to his right. Standing up and smiling at Angie now covered in cake but not seeming to mind as Frank just notices how bright her eyes get. He watches as she takes a napkin and wipes at her cheek, rolling her eyes as Angie just can’t stop bouncing excitedly and biting her lip.

The red lipped woman holds her hand out, all poise and grace like Angie described her. She smiles slightly as Angie discreetly takes her other hand in hers. 

“Don’t think we’ve met. I’m assuming your Frank” 

Taking her hand he’s surprised by the firmness of the shake. 

“Your assumption is correct. You must be the famous Peggy Carter I’ve heard about” 

Raising her eyebrow she looks to Angie’s sheepish face, shrugging Angie just sits back down pulling Peggy down with her. She indicates to the opposite seat for Frank to sit. 

He’s got time, probably 20 minutes till his wife would worry. 

“Sorry English, you left me high and dry for two years. A ladies gotta brag bout her gal can’t she not?” 

‘English’ looks red faced across to Frank’s smirking face.

(it looks like she grips tighter to the hand under the table) 

“Anyways, Frankie here, the champ of the century. Let me spill my girl problems to him years ago. Speaking of gals, hows the wife?”

“Two kids and that sappy war story Ang, life’s pretty great”

He smiles bashfully as Angie lights up, so happy just to see _him_ happy.

Peggy better treat her right. 

“You? Hows that married life?”

Peggy was mid tea sip as she chokes and lowers the cup from the tea dripping on her lap. But Angie just pats her back and giggles, looking around once, twice, three times before planting a small kiss to her cheeks. Earning another blush from the great Peggy Carter. 

“Yeah Pegs, hows married life doing you?”

Scowling (kinda like a kid Frank thinks) Peggy just nods and regains her poise. 

“Wonderful darling.”

Angie just smiles and turns back around to Frank. 

“Pretty wonderful is your answer” 

It’s pretty amazing seeing this he thinks. Angie used to be so sure of things, so sure she’d never see her on the back of Peggy’s hand. So sure that Peggy wa a goner. 

Oh he remembers the story all right. Pretty grand one. Those bullet holes musta done a toll on the English women, she seems kinda the retired type. Comfy clothes and it’s a Wednesday and they're out for lunch. 

And as he watches Angie take a bite of Peggy’s cake with a fork (he gathered the one for her is on his shirt) he sees how light their eyes are getting. And how as Angie just stuffs a bite in her mouth Peggy looks on in unwavering fondness. 

He smiles as he nods to the fork in Angie’s hand and leans back in the booth, 

“So whats the fork story?” 

The teasing smile from Angie and embarrassed look from Peggy is worth it.

And as Angie tells it adimately, it’s not lost on Frank how Peggy plays with her ring like Angie does. Like they’re afraid it’s gonna fall off and be lost forever like Peggy was all that time ago.

Frank hopes the cake will get out of his shirt. He hopes Angie never assumes and that Peggy Carter tattoos the map to the back of her hand. 

Frank Davis hopes for a lotta things, spitting in jerks coffees and quitting shitty jobs. So far they’ve all checked out. 

So he just hopes the war movie and great love story checks out. 

The way Peggy looks at Angie though, 

Frank doesn’t doubt it’s definitely gonna be a sappy one.


End file.
